<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Remain Nameless by pleathe</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876664">Remain Nameless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleathe/pseuds/pleathe'>pleathe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Canon Backstory, Canon Compliant, Character Study, M/M, Multi, Past Child Abuse, References to Drugs, Relationship Study, Roof Sex, Song Lyrics, Strippers &amp; Strip Clubs, Time Skips, Trans Character, author writes a billion words based on a chesires cat "we're all mad here", chrollo is such a simp sorri, hisoka is NOT a pedo in this universe, machi?? that's my girl, omg thats a real tagfjksls, soooososososo indulgent, thats my OC - Freeform, the hisoillu is more.... elusive?, they def bffs tho we love to see it, uhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:35:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleathe/pseuds/pleathe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><br/><br/>What if, after he killed Hisoka in their Heaven's Arena match, Chrollo took away his own memories?<br/><br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feitan/Shalnark (Hunter x Hunter), Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer, Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Original Character(s), Uvogin | Ubogin/Shalnark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Remain Nameless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>•🕷•</p>
<p><em> “Keep you close, right by my side. I swear you've got me hypnotized. I wanna give you every piece of me. You know you are my everything. I wanna dance into your hurricane. Blinded by your glare again.” </em> <a href="#romanticist" id="romanticistback" name="romanticistback"><sup>[1]</sup></a> </p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One thing that everyone needs to know about Hisoka Morrow is that he loves to tease. He loves the way people’s cheeks fill with blood at the sound of his tone and the vulgarity of his words. He lives for the heaving breaths, the unfocused eyes, the slack mouths, and boneless limbs. Really, half the time he doesn’t even understand what he’s saying himself - he talks before he thinks, but he’s also kind of a pathological liar so his big mouth doesn’t ever get him in trouble. </p>
<p>Hisoka is 21 and has just lost a Heaven’s Arena match to this - majestic, powerful<em>, strong </em>- man who calls himself Chrollo Lucifer. </p>
<p>The two men are standing on opposite sides of an alleyway just outside the Arena. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you kill me?”</p>
<p>
  <em>'I lost.’  </em>
</p>
<p>“I have no desire to kill you. You interest me.”</p>
<p>And that’s it, isn’t it? Fighting Hisoka was exhilarating. This man in front of him is so,<em> so</em>, interesting. He’s utterly chaotic, he’s wild, he’s free, and there’s beauty in that, a pure and raw expression of human nature. Insane in the sense that a small certain group of elitist humans far long ago decided with their big egos that they know what is sane and what is not and their guidelines absolutely do not fucking matter, because all they <em>really </em>wanted was to find people to take advantage of, experiment on, play with and judge</p>
<p>“Oh? What... <em>particular</em>, part of me interests you so much, may I ask?” Hisoka’s voice is low, practically a purr, and Chrollo is merely a 20-year-old boy. </p>
<p>Chrollo wants to play along, keep Hisoka talking. <em>'Should I speak honestly?’</em> He asks himself. He looks at Hisoka, takes in his battered form, littered with cuts and bruises of the prettiest maroon tones, '<em>He looks so good in red.’  </em></p>
<p>He was so lost in his thoughts that he admittedly wasn’t paying attention to Hisoka’s movements until the redhead was already right up against him, crowding him against the wall of the ally they both stood in. Both of Hisoka’s hands rest against the wall on either side of Chrollo’s head, and his body crouches down for gold eyes to level with grey. </p>
<p>Hisoka’s body is radiating with heat, and Chrollo has always, <em> always</em>, been weak for warmth. </p>
<p>“There’s no need to be shy,” Hisoka murmurs, “I find you quite beautiful. I honestly don’t know if I’d rather see you bathed in your own blood or naked against my sheets,” His lips graze Chrollo’s parted ones, their breaths mingling together and Chrollo feels like oxygen is leaving his brain. Hisoka groans softly, the sound rumbling low in his throat, “Don’t even get me started on what the combined image does to me.” </p>
<p>Chrollo feels lightheaded. Hisoka is radiating his Nen, showcasing his raw power similar to the way male peacocks flock their colorful feathers to attract a mate. Chrollo feels all the blood in his body boil, and he knows he’s so pink right now. The street lamp only brightens Hisoka’s lidded eyes, thick eyelashes framing those fat gold coins so prettily. Chrollo never had a chance to look at Hisoka’s face during their fight, and now he regrets it because Hisoka has the prettiest bone structure he’s ever seen, and not even the white paint can conceal the plumpness of his lips. Chrollo wants him. </p>
<p>“Show me,” he begs. </p>
<p>And then Hisoka is leaning forward, and Chrollo feels those plush lips against his own and his eyes fall shut, a sigh leaving his mouth before the flat of a hot tongue traces lewdly along his mouth, the tip curling sharply under the fat of Chrollo’s top lip, and slowly, bewitchingly, <em> flicks.</em></p>
<p>Just when Chrollo is about to claw his hands into Hisoka’s waist, the redhead is already pulling back, a string of saliva connecting them the only proof of what had just happened. </p>
<p>Chrollo feels those lips against the shell of his ear, and his eyes flutter shut, “I will fight you again, Chrollo. And next time, it will be to the death.”</p>
<p>The warmth of Hisoka’s body is gone, and when Chrollo opens his eyes, he is alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hisoka is 23 and feeling on top of the world. He stands directly in front of the man he’s spent the last 2 years searching for, his hospitality gift dangling in his right hand, white fingers tangled in blood-matted, grey hair. </p>
<p>Hisoka has been here for about ten seconds, and the man in question has yet to lift his head up from his book to see what Hisoka has oh, so humbly brought to him. The eyes of every other Spider flicker between Hisoka, their leader, and the head hanging from Hisoka’s hand. </p>
<p>Hisoka gets tired of waiting - he’s an impatient man - and with a quick flick of the wrist, he swings the head out of his hand- </p>
<p>-where it lands perfectly in Chrollo Lucifer’s lap. That finally gets his attention. </p>
<p>Chrollo pulls away from his book, eyebrows raised as he takes in dead turquoise eyes and silver hair. His number Four. </p>
<p>“I’ll admit, I expected a… warmer welcome, <em> Danchou</em>,” Hisoka drawls, his hands on his shapely hips. </p>
<p>Chrollo takes a moment and looks around, observing how every Spider around Hisoka is crouched and ready for an attack at any moment. He waves his hand, the movement commanding, <em>‘Stand down.</em>’ He sets Omokage’s head on the arm of his chair and stands up. </p>
<p>His hands are raised in a welcoming gesture and his smile is ever so charming, “Welcome home, Hisoka. I’ve been expecting you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Expecting </em>him? Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Machi is seething. Her fists are clenched and even though her wild pink hair is tied in a ponytail, the coils of her bangs stick out and only add to the expression on her face. </p>
<p>Hisoka has just left their compound - left so <em>nonchalantly </em>after the most dramatic entrance Machi thinks she’s ever seen, finishing it off with a pretentious, <em>"Contact me when you need me, Danchou.”  </em></p>
<p>The rest of the Troupe watches, in silence, because even though they know their leader respects their individual input, there is no one Chrollo trusts more than Machi.</p>
<p>Chrollo rubs his chin, “Hm, I feel as sane as I did yesterday. Why do you ask?”</p>
<p>“Danchou,” Machi berates, “I’m serious. That <em>clown </em>-”</p>
<p>“I believe he calls himself a ‘magician’.”</p>
<p><em>“He is psychotic!" </em>Machi, who is usually able to keep a cool head, exclaims. Her eyes are slightly wide, begging for her leader to see reason. She feels as if she’s entered a different world - a world where her leader’s an <em>idiot</em>, “The only stories anyone hears about that man are vile and… and <em>random</em>.”</p>
<p>“Many would describe us as vile and random,” Chrollo argues -<em> gaslights, </em>really. </p>
<p>“Danchou,” Machi’s chin is stern, “It’s different. You <em>know </em>that. You know you can’t trust him.” </p>
<p>At this very moment, that incredibly dangerous man - that hands-down-honest-to-God <em>threat </em>to her leader - is out getting his Spider tattoo as they speak. </p>
<p>“I think he has great potential,” And Chrollo would rather chew glass than admit to Machi that Hisoka makes his blood rush and his pants tighter, because, well, that’s <em>private.</em></p>
<p>“He’s a blood-thirsty <em>freak</em>, Danchou,” and Machi <em>really </em>should have watched her words because, at that, the fattest smile graces her leader’s lips.</p>
<p>Because Chrollo Lucifer welcomes the freaks, always, with a big, fat shit-eating grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite what many will say about the leader of the Phantom Troupe, Chrollo Lucifer does not have a God-complex - at least, that’s what he’d say.</p>
<p>He’d argue that he just has an understanding of life that many do not accept. Universal morals are good and fine up until your own survival depends on breaking them, and Chrollo is not a person who is willing to die for something as frivolous as his so-called ‘<em>soul’. </em>No, Chrollo Lucifer believes the events of life are out of his hands and that there is no reason for said events. </p>
<p><em>'Those who can’t take from others will get taken from.'  - </em>This is what Chrollo Lucifer tells himself.</p>
<p>Chrollo has empathy, he has it in <em>spades. </em>He understands pain, he feels the hurt in his own heart when he sees someone cry - he wishes, too, that it could be different. But he compartmentalizes, because, in the end, he knows this world is a hierarchy of predator and prey, and no one cries when a lion kills a gazelle, so why does the reaction change when it’s two human beings? Why are those who participate in hedonistic chaos the ones who get blamed for the fall of humanity when society's own leaders are the ones starving their own citizens? Those revered leaders - those cheats and liars, those who hire people like the Spiders to dirty their own hands with the blood of the enemy those so-called leaders are too yello-bellied to handle themselves. </p>
<p>People forget that sin is precisely what defines humanity. Sin was written<em> by </em>humanity. </p>
<p>Chrollo sees only beauty in surviving. The strength one builds, the trials they endure. The result is similar to the rise of a phoenix, born again from its own ashes. Magnificent, in the highest regards. </p>
<p>Chrollo Lucifer has an inkling that Hisoka Morrow shares his point of view on this topic. </p>
<p>“There’s a difference between you and me,” Hisoka supplies when Chrollo mentions this thought. Chrollo responds with the rise of an eyebrow, and Hisoka continues, “I don’t kill children.”</p>
<p>“Hm? Are you stating your terms for joining the Troupe already? It’s barely been a month.”</p>
<p>Hisoka’s lips pull up to a smile but his eyes never warm, “I find being upfront helps cut out all the shit.” </p>
<p>Chrollo hums, his folded hands tightening behind his back, “We avoid harming children.”</p>
<p>A bemused laugh vibrates against the walls of the church, “Forgetting already? You old man,” Hisoka points to the gold rim of his eye and lifts a brow. </p>
<p>It takes Chrollo a second, but then he understands, '<em>Ah, the Kurta.’  </em></p>
<p>“I didn’t kill the children.”</p>
<p>“Then who did?”</p>
<p>“Omokage,” Chrollo's voice is succinct and hollow, “The Spider before you.” </p>
<p>But Hisoka knows the hollowness is not one born out of sadness, “Oh?” </p>
<p>“He had a thing for eyes.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I remember. His creepy little dolls… Ugly things. No fun to play with,” Honestly, Hisoka barely broke a sweat when he defeated Omokage.</p>
<p>Chrollo let out a small laugh, “Yes, well. We originally planned to round the children up, and release them after everything was over. Make up some lie,” Chrollo paused, his eyes drifting away from Hisoka and becoming hazy with the melancholic memory. They settled just above Hisoka’s shoulder, but the Joker knew he wasn’t really looking at him. “Omokage already slaughtered them by the time we came back to release them. Took their eyes for his Soul Dolls.”</p>
<p>Hisoka is quiet for a moment, as he gives his respects to the dead. </p>
<p>He takes a step backward and leans into the rock behind him, propping one foot against it, and crosses his arms. “So, you let him get away with this disobedience? He was very much alive when I met him.” </p>
<p>Chrollo laughed, and this one was different - satisfied and sharp. He looks Hisoka in the eyes, and confesses, “Feitan dealt with him.” </p>
<p>Hisoka’s eyebrows shoot up, “Pitting your children against each other. That’s not very leader-like, Danchou,” He mocked.</p>
<p>The smile across Chrollo’s pretty lips widens a bit, and the man shrugs his shoulders, “I’ll admit, I was never fond of him. He only ever wanted the eyes of my Spiders. The Troupe flipped the coin. Really, it was out of my hands, at that point.”</p>
<p>“Fair enough.”</p>
<p>“We established two rules after that job,” Chrollo says, this time studying Hisoka’s expression. Hisoka knew he was being tested, “The Spiders do not rape and they do not kill children. Those who break these rules will be dealt with. Can you handle that, Hisoka?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, basic human decency? Yeah, I think I’ll manage,” Hisoka smiled, albeit a tad patronizing. Truthfully, those were really the only two rules the Magician followed himself, but Chrollo doesn’t need to know the... softer parts of him. </p>
<p>Little does Hisoka know that his response made Chrollo’s heart swell proudly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p><em>“I got you hypnotized, I read your thoughts when you look in my eyes. You're just my human toy, and I am programmed to search and destroy.” </em> <a href="#femmebot" id="femmebotback" name="femmebotback"> <sup>[2]</sup> </a></p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears form in his eyes and he can’t breathe, laughter straight from his belly falling from his lips. Hisoka has been making nonstop jokes about every old, -<em> “‘Bout to turn to dust, really, wouldn’t be surprised if half of ‘em cum sand,” </em> - rich piece of shit at this banquet. Chrollo has already felt multiple inquiring eyes flutter in their direction, and every time, he tries to cover his mouth with his hand in some useless way to quiet the sound of his laughter. </p>
<p>Hisoka makes him laugh, in a way he’s never laughed before. </p>
<p>Hisoka’s jokes are crude and vulgar things, really. They’re mean but witty, and every time he reveals the punchline, his voice drops as if he’s sharing a secret with Chrollo, and it makes him feel so, so warm. </p>
<p>They’re both supposed to be laying low, undercover in tasteless suits and squeaky shoes. They’re <em>supposed </em>to be blending in, but Hisoka’s big mouth clearly had other priorities. </p>
<p>Chrollo attempts to shush him, uncontrollable laughter curling his lips over his clenched teeth, “Sh, sh, Hisoka, seriously, shut - shut up,” he says, giggles falling out of his mouth, definitely <em>not </em>helping. </p>
<p>“But I don’t want to,” Hisoka pouts, “We’re having so much fun.” </p>
<p>Chrollo rolls his eyes, but the smile doesn’t lessen, “We can have fun <em>later</em>.”</p>
<p>At that, Hisoka’s eyes gleam. He leans forward, his chest pressing into Chrollo’s arm, and leans down to whisper, “Promise?”</p>
<p>Chrollo stills for a second - Hisoka is so, <em>so </em>warm - but for only a second. </p>
<p>“Only if you <em>behave,</em>” His dangling fingers pinch Hisoka’s side discreetly. </p>
<p>Hisoka pulls back, “Behaving isn’t really my thing.”</p>
<p>“I’m aware.” Chrollo turns away from Hisoka and his eyes immediately land on their target. Hisoka follows his line of vision and grins, waiting for Chrollo to give the go-ahead. </p>
<p>Chrollo’s face turns back to Hisoka’s, and he winks. </p>
<p>'<em>Showtime.’</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s late, again,” Phinks grumbles. </p>
<p>“Not anything new,” Feitan responds from his spot next to Shalnark. They’re playing a card game, one Shalnark picked up from his time down West. Shalnark has won four out of six games, and Feitan just <em>knows </em>he’s going to win this round. </p>
<p>Or, he<em> would </em>have, if Uvogin didn’t choose this time to wrap his meaty hand high on Shalnark’s thigh and squeeze, shocking Shalnark into accidentally loosening his grip on his cards and having 2 of them slip to the ground, face up - <em>'Shit, he had my card, </em>again<em>.' </em></p>
<p>Feitan feels his eyes steel and burrows deeper into his scarf. </p>
<p>“Uvo!” Shalnark uses the hand holding his cards to push Uvogin’s away, “You made me drop my cards. I was about ta win! You’re so annoying.”</p>
<p>Uvogin laughs and surrenders his grip on Shalnark’s leg, putting both hands in the air as a mock-surrender, “Geeze, I was just trying to say hello. Thought you’d be happy to see me,” He winked, his sleazy grin widening. </p>
<p>Shalnark’s expression deadpanned, “I’m never happy to see you.”</p>
<p>Uvogin snorts, “That’s a damn lie,” and looks at Shalnark <em>pointedly</em>. </p>
<p>Shalnark only rolls his eyes. Feitan burrows deeper into his scarf and hides.</p>
<p>Uvogin moves to take a seat next to Feitan, “Hey, Fei.”</p>
<p>“Uvo,” Feitan greets, the nodding of his head doing the majority of the work.</p>
<p>“Danchou,” Uvogin addresses, his voice ever-so brash, and Chrollo looks up from the book he’s been reading, “Where’s the clown? Can’t we just start without him? Shalnark will catch him up.” </p>
<p>Shalnark squawks, “What the fuck,<em> no </em>-”</p>
<p>Chrollo opens his mouth with a response when, suddenly, a very familiar Nen makes itself known, and white-painted hands hold Chrollo’s wrists down to the arms of the stone chair, a torso cutting off his view of his Spiders. </p>
<p>This body is upside down.</p>
<p>This body is, specifically, Hisoka, pinning him down to the chair with a<em> handstand</em>.</p>
<p>Chrollo looks up to see the long line of Hisoka’s lower body, the tip of his toes pointing perfectly up to the ceiling of the abandoned church.</p>
<p>Chrollo looks back down to Hisoka’s upside-down face, and thinks, <em>‘This angle makes him look funny,</em>’ and he smiles, “So kind of you to join us, Hisoka.”</p>
<p>Hisoka’s chin tips towards his chest slightly, and Chrollo can see the gleam of those gold eyes more clearly, “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Danchou.” </p>
<p>There is a moment when their eyes connect.</p>
<p>Hisoka winks before his back arches and Chrollo watches as Hisoka brings his strong legs down in a graceful forward walkover. The tips of red hair tickle Chrollo’s chin and the aroma of citris welcomes him. </p>
<p>Uvogin is the first one to break the silence, and, of course, it is with a booming laugh. </p>
<p>All of the members stare at him with varying expressions - incredulity, annoyance, curiosity. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Uvogin begins, “I know we don’t like him but you guys have to admit! The clown’s got style!”</p>
<p>Hisoka turns to Uvogin, a card already held delicately between two slim fingers, and <em>bows</em>, “Thank you, Uvogin,” Hisoka’s head comes back up, his back still low, and looks back at Chrollo, “At least <em>someone </em>appreciates my efforts.” </p>
<p>Chrollo smiles, amused at the interaction and, <em>of course</em>, by the Magician, “Maybe I would appreciate your efforts more if they were, oh, say… 4 hours earlier?” </p>
<p>Hisoka straightens back up, “Oh, Danchou, entertainment is in my blood, it’s practically effortless. I was talking about my efforts in showing up to these meetings, like,<em> at all.</em> I prefer… one-on-one communication,” and not a single Spider misses how his eyes roam up and down their leader lecherously. </p>
<p>“Nevermind, I’m back to hating him.”</p>
<p>Hisoka shrugs and sits down. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time Hisoka actually <em>tracks Chrollo down</em>, Chrollo is 24, sitting on his motel bed, reading a book Machi recommended to him. He <em>feels</em> Hisoka’s presence before the magician actually reveals himself, and he knows that <em>Hisoka knows </em>that Chrollo knows. </p>
<p>But Chrollo makes no movement to acknowledge him.</p>
<p>“Really, Danchou, I come all the way down here to see you, and all you’re going to do is <em>read a book </em>?”</p>
<p>Chrollo lip lifts to the side in a soft smirk - no sass and all endearment. </p>
<p>Hisoka watches him read the whole night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hisoka is persistent, Chrollo will give him that.</p>
<p>“<em>Danchou, </em>not to sound impatient but.. I’m getting a bit bored here.”</p>
<p>Chrollo hums, “Hmm? Bored? Why is that my problem?”</p>
<p>Hisoka deflates, “You’re a terrible host.”</p>
<p><em>“You</em> are the one who goes out of their way to find <em>me.</em>”</p>
<p>Chrollo hears the man let out a whine and looks up from his book, finally giving him some sort of attention. Hisoka is sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a stone pillar that would gleam ivory in sunlight, but tints blue underneath the blanket of night. His long neck is bared in a dramatic gesture of frustration, but all Chrollo can focus on is the man’s prominent adam’s apple and what it would look like with the imprint of Chrollo’s teeth outlining it. </p>
<p>“This is the third time you’ve ignored me for a <em>book</em>. Am I really not that interesting?” Hisoka brings his head back down to look at Chrollo, and the action snaps Chrollo out of his thoughts. The Magician’s face was a mockery of sadness, his white lips pushing out in a plush pout. </p>
<p>Chrollo gives the man a gentle smile, “You’re very interesting, Hisoka. But you chose to waste our time constantly by trying to put on a show. Who’s the audience?”</p>
<p>Hisoka’s expression sobers for a second. His eyes flash with something like calculation, and Chrollo knows Hisoka is now ten times more alert. </p>
<p>And then a moment later, he perks up, placing a long and elegant finger on his chin, “I have an idea.” </p>
<p>Chrollo puts his book down on a pile of stone rubble. His hideout this time is an ancient ruin of a temple that stood tall probably several centuries ago.</p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow and waits for Hisoka to continue.</p>
<p>“I think we should fight.”</p>
<p>Chrollo’s smile widens, “Are you so restless that you’d rather die?”</p>
<p>Hisoka laughs. It’s fake and it rumbles like an avalanche but Chrollo still thinks it’s a gorgeous sound. </p>
<p>“If I said yes, would you indulge me?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Persistent.  </em>
</p>
<p>Chrollo rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you can find some other thing to indulge in.”</p>
<p>Hisoka stands up from his place against the pillar and walks until he’s right in front of Chrollo. His movements are slow and his body slinks in a way that Chrollo doesn’t understand how something like Hisoka Morrow exists. He’s bending down at the waist now, and Chrollo’s breath is stuck in his throat. Hisoka’s face is getting closer and closer with every millisecond, and Chrollo can finally,<em> finally </em>see the beauty of the magician’s features with clarity under the darkness of night. </p>
<p>Big white hands spread themselves against the stone that Chrollo is sitting on, the nails of his thumbs brushing barely<em> - a hair’s wisp of pressure - </em>against his thighs as they land. “What if I said there is nothing else?” White lips pronounce each word carefully, a pink tongue barely poking out behind straight white teeth, “What if I only want you?”</p>
<p>Chrollo… <em>cannot </em>take this teasing anymore.</p>
<p>“I’d say you’re all talk and no bite.” </p>
<p>“M’been waiting for an invitation,” the tips of Hisoka’s lips curl into a smirk.</p>
<p>“Inviting you to join my family wasn’t enough?”</p>
<p><em>God, </em>Chrollo is so, <em>so, </em>so fascinated by Hisoka. A man who is notoriously known for <em>taking </em>whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted - <em>that man </em>is allowing Chrollo to make his own move. </p>
<p>It’s almost sweet. </p>
<p>Hisoka leans in even further, and Chrollo feels drunk. The tip of Hisoka’s nose is brushing his own, and the yearning for a kiss that is not promised to him pulls him in. </p>
<p>Hisoka is speaking, Chrollo knows this because he can <em>feel </em>Hisoka’s lips tickle his own as they move, and Chrollo forces himself to pay attention, because he’s always, <em>always, </em>eager to hear the man in front of him speak. </p>
<p>“I want you to tell me <em>exactly </em>what you want, <em>Chrollo</em>.”</p>
<p>Chrollo doesn’t want to say it. Words aren’t enough and, at the same time, they’re too much for what Chrollo wants from Hisoka. There is no single sentence that can sum up all the things he wants from Hisoka - he wants the air in Hisoka’s lungs inside his own, he wants his fingertips to hold the memory of the slopes and peaks of Hisoka’s body, he wants to feel Hisoka break into a thousand little pieces and he wants to be the one to put him back together and he wants Hisoka to want it, too. </p>
<p>He turns his Nen on, and as fast as lightning, his hand is around Hisoka’s throat, slamming the magician’s head against the same stone pillar he was leaning on earlier, so hard that the force of Chrollo’s and Hisoka’s Nen deeply cracks and crumbles the stone around their shoulders. They’re both breathing hard, their eyes are locked and they are waiting. </p>
<p>
  <em>'An invitation.’  </em>
</p>
<p>Chrollo gives into the gravity of Hisoka and kisses him - hard, slow, and <em>dirty.  </em></p>
<p>Under the light of the moon against once-scared stone, two pairs of hands reach for anything and everything, grabbing, pulling, stroking, squeezing, hands of thieves stealing countless secrets, coercing only the most divine out of human nature.</p>
<p>It’s messy and rough and everything Chrollo has desired for the past three years. </p>
<p>He loves it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one thing people need to know about the Phantom Troupe outside of their infamous thievery is that they know how to throw a party. </p>
<p>It’s Machi’s 22nd birthday and the Troupe is gathered at the finest nightclub in Meteor City. “<em>Finest” </em>being used objectively, because while it is the city’s favorite establishment, there is nothing modern or lavish about it. However, the drinks are cheap, the music is loud, and the people are <em>free. </em>This place is their home, and Machi is so, so happy. </p>
<p>She spends the entire night breathless - she drinks and dances and the people who love her surround her in that love wholeheartedly. </p>
<p>She notices she’s not the only one having a good time. </p>
<p>She’s sandwiched between Shizuku and Pakunoda, heavy bass thumping throughout her entire body. She’s laughing, grabbing at Pakunoda and knocking their foreheads together. The blond laughs with her, her own forehead nuzzling further in affection until Machi feels her head lean backward slightly. She feels Shizuku lightly shake her shoulder, and when Machi turns her head to inquire, Shizuku is pointing a finger in a direction that Machi follows with her eyes and <em>sees</em>. </p>
<p>It took her a second to realize who she was even looking at because even though she has seen Chrollo in various shapes and forms, she is not used to seeing Hisoka without his clown getup. </p>
<p>Her breath hitches in her throat when she sees the look on her leader’s face as he stares up at the red-headed object of his affection.</p>
<p>“It’s gross, but we kind of saw this coming, no?” Shizuku says.</p>
<p><em>'Yes,' </em>Machi wants to say, <em>'But not like this.’  </em></p>
<p>Machi is smart and she reads people like parents read toddler books. She knew Chrollo was interested in Hisoka, but she didn’t think his interest lay so deep. The look in Chrollo’s eyes tells Machi everything. </p>
<p>Pakunoda, bless her heart, sees something in Machi sober up, and she leans in to say, “I think we definitely need more drinks.” </p>
<p>Machi agrees and walks with the girls to the bar. </p>
<p>As she walks, she looks around for her fellow members and spots Feitan pressed up against Shalnark, his pale cheeks blazing red and bare for the world to see without his scarf to hide behind. </p>
<p><em> 'Hm,’ </em>she thinks as she observes the affectionate, lazy grin on Shalnark’s face and the tight grip Feitan has on the blonde’s neck, ‘<em>Go, Feitan.’  </em></p>
<p>In a darker corner of the club, Chrollo is in awe of a makeup-less Hisoka. He’s drunk, and Chrollo tends to get a bit silly when there’s alcohol involved, so, really, it’s not his fault that he can’t stop staring. Usually, Hisoka’s face is stark white so it was a natural assumption that underneath that makeup, Hisoka’s skin would be pale, but, ‘<em>God, was I wrong.’  </em></p>
<p>Hisoka’s skin is a rich tan, with red and golden undertones. The true color of his skin makes the amber of his eyes glow and his lips are more redwood than pink, his top lip half a shade browner than his bottom. ‘<em>He’s lovely.’  </em></p>
<p>And then, Hisoka <em>smiles, </em>and those perfect, plump lips part to reveal those white teeth and Chrollo is fucking <em>transfixed. </em></p>
<p>The redhead is leaning down, his hair - his <em>hair </em>that he has left ungelled, flopping artfully around his face - brushing against Chrollo’s cheekbone to whisper in his ear, “You haven’t said more than four words to me since we arrived. Cat got your tongue, Danchou?”</p>
<p>It’s true. The only words Chrollo has spoken to Hisoka since this night began were: “Hello,” when greeting Hisoka, “I’m well,” when Hisoka asked about his well-being as a formality, “Yes,” to Hisoka buying him <em>3 </em>shots, and, “Yes,” when Hisoka asked him to dance. </p>
<p>Chrollo swallows the lump in his throat. He really shouldn’t be so affected seeing Hisoka like this, he’s seen the man <em>naked,</em> for God’s sakes. Granted, it was dark and Chrollo was focused more on <em>feeling </em>Hisoka than seeing him. But still, there is no reason for <em>the </em>head of the Phantom Troupe to get literally tongue-tied by a pretty boy with a pretty smile. </p>
<p>He forces himself to speak, “I thought you never took off your makeup.” </p>
<p>The magician laughs and the large hand on Chrollo’s waist tightens, “Oh?”</p>
<p>“You look lovely,” and Chrollo wants to kick himself. He didn’t mean to say, '<em>lovely</em>,’ he truly didn't. He wanted to say something <em>sexy, </em>he wanted to call Hisoka <em>'hot’</em>, he wanted to tell Hisoka about the 5 scenarios that have played out in his head about where this night could go, all of which involved Hisoka naked and under <em>very bright lights</em>. </p>
<p>The man purrs, and Chrollo feels it through Hisoka’s body because they are pressed that closely together, “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Chrollo tips his forehead against Hisoka’s shoulder, “Yeah.” </p>
<p>Hisoka cups the back of Chrollo’s head with his hand. With his thumb caressing Chrollo’s cheekbone, he eases the man’s head off his shoulder and demands his attention, locking their eyes. </p>
<p>“Come with me somewhere.” </p>
<p>And Chrollo does. </p>
<p>A little while later, Machi is rolling. When Phinks had presented the group a handful of pastel pills an hour ago, she didn’t think she was going to feel like <em>this. </em>She’s immensely happy, she feels light and at the same time, she’s unbelievably fulfilled. The lights are bright and beautiful, her friends are absolutely <em>lovely</em>, and the air is thick with sweat, lust, and complete and utter debauchery. </p>
<p>Even Hisoka can’t bring down her mood. Well, it also helps that he’s not <em>present</em>, at the moment. Come to think of it, Chrollo is gone as well. But right now, at this moment, she trusts in Chrollo’s undeniable ability to protect himself and gives Hisoka the benefit of the doubt. Intoxicated or not, not a single person here holds a candle to Chrollo Lucifer’s skill. </p>
<p>She spots Feitan sitting on the ledge of one of the balconies that oversee the dancefloor. Using her threads, she pulls herself up to sit next to him. </p>
<p>Feitan turns to her, and she can see the dilation of his golden pupils, his eyes almost completely black. He gives her a smile, “Happy birthday, Machi,” he says, even though he’s said it about 5 times this past <em>hour</em>. </p>
<p>It’s much quieter up here, about a hundred feet above the booming speakers and loud cheers. She can hear the other man perfectly.</p>
<p>Machi leans her head on top of Feitan’s because even though Machi is short, Feitan is<em> shorter </em>and Machi wants to have physical contact with the people she loves right now, “Thanks, Fei. What are you doing up here?” </p>
<p>Feitan sighs and searches for Machi’s hand to hold, “Why you think people have sex?”</p>
<p>Machi was not expecting that. She knows<em> what </em>Feitan is referring to, but she didn’t think he wanted to talk about it. Instead of showing any surprise, Machi squeezes Feitan’s hand, “Why do you ever have sex?”</p>
<p>Feitan thinks about that for a second, “Mm, money. Or, was bored.” He starts to lift his head, and Machi eases off to look at his face, “And you?”</p>
<p>Machi smiles gently and brings her other hand to wrap around their enclasped ones, “Sometimes, because I was bored and wanted a bit of fun. Other times, because I loved the other person, and wanted to express it. Or I wanted them to love me. To get over someone, too. Rebound sex, I guess? I don’t know, I think a lot of people have sex just to feel something. Well, I mean, people have sex for lots of different reasons, Fei.” </p>
<p>Feitan hums and turns his head. Machi follows his line of sight, and the question makes ten times more sense now. On the dancefloor, Uvogin holds Shalnark’s back to his front and they’re grinding intensely, Uvogin occasionally dipping his head into Shalnark’s neck, probably painting the blonde’s skin in countless marks. </p>
<p>Machi makes a frustrated noise, “Sometimes, men are just horny.” </p>
<p>Feitan laughs, but it’s a horrible laugh. It cracks, and it’s hollow and hopeless and<em> nothing </em>like the man Feitan is. Machi hates it, and even though she loves Uvogin, she can’t help herself when she adds, “Between you and me, Uvogin is <em>not </em>a man to be jealous of.”</p>
<p>That brings a real laugh out of Feitan, and the man leans further into Machi’s side and leans his head on her shoulder. His short legs are dangling, and he looks and feels<em> so </em>small that all Machi wants to do is put him in her pocket and take him somewhere that’ll make him smile.</p>
<p>“I do not dislike Uvo. If I did not like pretty boys, I would let him fuck, in past.”</p>
<p>At that, Machi laughs and instinctively tightens her hold on his hands. She<em> loves </em>this man to death. </p>
<p>Still, she wants to know something, “They’re not exclusive. What’s stopping you?”</p>
<p>She feels Feitan sigh against her shoulder, hot air rushing against her heated skin for a moment. </p>
<p>“I do not want to be same as Uvo. I want - Agh,” He curses something in his native language, “Sex is not... important, to me. I want him to want me same way.”</p>
<p><em> 'I’m sure he does,</em>’ Machi wants to say, but truth be told, she isn’t quite sure. She knows Shalnark, and while it’s clear that Feitan lives in that boy's heart, she also knows Shalnark has a long and complicated history in the concept of trusting men, and it looks like Feitan has a complicated relationship with sex. Machi’s not quite sure where that leaves the two, but that’s ok because Machi doesn’t mind giving her boys a little push. </p>
<p>So, instead of saying anything else, she uses her Nen to wrap her thread around Feitan and pushes him away to look at his face. She raises her eyebrows and gives the man a wicked grin. Feitan’s eyes widen and before he can say anything, Machi<em> jumps</em>, Feitan in tow. </p>
<p>She lands perfectly on Uvogin’s back, and Uvogin is fully prepared for it because of his instincts. He howls in mirth as he uses his big hands to grip her thighs and keep her upright. The second before Feitan falls to the ground, she manipulates her strings to make him land perfectly in the space her arrival created between Shalnark and Uvogin. Feitan lands squarely on his two feet and Shalnark’s face brightens, pulling the man close to him. </p>
<p>Machi smiles in the crook of Uvogin’s shoulder as the three men yell, “Happy birthday, Machi!” for the n-th time. </p>
<p>She is so, <em>so </em>happy. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, Chrollo is riding Hisoka with everything he's got over the ledge of the roof under the light of the full moon. His knees bracket the magician’s hips, and it’s taking all his core strength to make sure the two don’t topple over the edge to their deaths. </p>
<p>The pure adrenaline rushing through his veins is like nothing he’s ever felt. </p>
<p>Hisoka makes him feel <em>more </em>than alive, he makes him feel weightless and invincible and <em>so fucking good, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, please.  </em></p>
<p>Hisoka is impressive like this, using his strong hands to move Chrollo any way he likes, and his own core power is incredible because Chrollo doesn’t even realize how much they’re tipping over the edge of the building until his eyes open and he’s met with the sight roads, hundreds of feet below them. </p>
<p>A shot of electricity zings down his spine and Chrollo is <em>so fucking close.</em> </p>
<p>He tells Hisoka as much, with a hand gripping the man’s thick red hair and the other around strong shoulders. Hisoka brings his mouth to his own and gives him the sloppiest, filthiest kiss of his life. Chrollo moans, because he can’t help it, he never wants this to end. Against his lips, Hisoka brings his tongue out to lick at the flesh of Chrollo’s top lip before he speaks, low and breathless, “Do you trust me?” </p>
<p>Chrollo doesn’t, not fully, not yet, but he feels so good that he doesn’t care what Hisoka tries to do at this point, “Yes.” </p>
<p>Hisoka lets out a laugh and Chrollo feels it, the puff of his breath against his lips, and Chrollo opens his mouth to stick his tongue back down Hisoka’s throat. His hips are moving faster, frantically, and Hisoka is meeting him each time with the same amount of vigor. Just as Hisoka bites down on the bottom of Chrollo’s lip, <em>hard, </em>Chrollo faintly registers the magician’s legs lifting as he braces his feet against the slab concrete of the ledge they’re sitting on. The action causes Hisoka to burrow even <em>deeper </em>into Chrollo, and it’s so intense and so perfect, it wretches the most wrecked sound out of Chrollo and he is about to <em>cum.  </em></p>
<p>Hisoka turns his head to whisper in Chrollo’s ear, “Liar.”</p>
<p>And then Hisoka pushes off his feet and they’re <em>flying.  </em></p>
<p>Hurtling down, down, <em>down</em> the building and even though there’s a voice in the back of Chrollo’s head telling him he’s going to die, his body betrays him and he feels the most incredible wash of euphoria he’s ever felt in his entire life and he’s <em>cumming - oh, God, he’s cumming </em>- so hard that it splatters across his own face and he can feel Hisoka doing the same, <em>inside him</em>, and the man he’s holding onto for dear life lets out a groan that’s borderline animalistic. </p>
<p>When the stars clear out of Chrollo’s eyes, he realizes that they’re <em>hanging, </em>upside down, with Hisoka’s bungee gum dangling them from near death. </p>
<p>Chrollo is panting heavily, and when he looks at Hisoka, he’s met with a shit-eating grin and he cannot believe he just let this man basically catapult them off the side of a building during <em>sex</em>. He can’t believe he <em>liked</em> it. </p>
<p>“I can’t fucking believe you,” He accuses. </p>
<p>“Please,” The redhead rolls his eyes and pushes his hips into Chrollo, and,<em> fuck</em>, Chrollo is so sensitive, he can’t help the little whine that leaves his lips, “You<em> loved </em>it.” </p>
<p>And Chrollo, ridiculously hanging upside, clutching at Hisoka’s shoulders and waist with his arms and legs, swinging back and forth with the momentum of their bodies, cannot deny Hisoka’s claim for the life of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hisoka is 25 when he takes a bullet for Chrollo. Luckily for him, it catches him in the <em>right </em>pectoral, and Machi has no problems patching him up. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, it leaves Hisoka confused at his own actions. Did he really use his own body to protect Chrollo’s? Chrollo probably wouldn’t have even died from a wound like that, especially since Machi was with them for their mission. And even if Chrollo did die, since when would his death affect Hisoka’s life? </p>
<p>‘<em>Why did it feel like triggered instinct?’ </em></p>
<p>Hisoka is not happy with this. He’s been in the Phantom Troupe for 2 years, faking his loyalties and doing literally the <em>bare minimum. </em></p>
<p>(With the added bonus of sleeping with his 'boss'.) </p>
<p>Maybe their arrangement wasn’t the smartest idea.</p>
<p>Hisoka just wanted a bit of fun in the meantime, while he waited out for the perfect time to actually <em>fight </em>Chrollo, his true goal. But lately, his priorities are starting to shift out of place. </p>
<p>Chrollo certainly doesn’t help, especially when he leaves Hisoka little mystery notes and ensues a miniature game of hide-and-seek in the richest city of the East. </p>
<p>Hisoka looks back down at the scrap of paper in his hands. </p>
<p>
  <em> “Come to this address when Machi is finished changing your wrappings. Top floor, code is 57239.”  </em>
</p>
<p><em> ‘This address’ </em>being the fanciest hotel Hisoka has seen in a while. ‘<em>Top floor’ </em>meaning a whole penthouse, twice larger than Hisoka’s own at Heaven’s Arena. </p>
<p>Chrollo’s always been the quietest of the Spiders. His Zetsu is perfect, and his footfalls are silent. </p>
<p>When Hisoka feels two strong hands lay on his shoulders, he doesn’t jump in shock nor does he feel fear, because no matter how well Chrollo masks his presence, Hisoka <em>knows </em>the width of his palm, the length of his ten fingers, the scent of his favored perfume, and the heaviness of his breath when he speaks directly into Hisoka’s ear.</p>
<p>“Sit.” </p>
<p>In front of Hisoka, there’s a large chesterfield sofa that curves into a semi-circle. It’s plush and purple, styled with luxury pillows that most likely cost a fortune. Hisoka thinks it’s exactly Chrollo’s style. </p>
<p>He decides to obey Chrollo’s demand, walking to the couch and settling down comfortably, spreading his arms and legs out. He notes that the fabric is velvet, and when he looks up to find the man of the hour, his heart stutters out of its natural rhythm and thumps loudly.</p>
<p>Chrollo smiles down at him when he sees the magician’s reaction, his bangs slightly brushing the tops of his cheekbones. His eyes are smoked out and shimmery, and his lips glint in a way they never have. His hands stay in his jacket pockets, but he purposely takes two steps back, <em>slowly</em>, to accentuate the movement of each foot. </p>
<p>Hisoka notices. Shiny black platforms with the thinnest heel Hisoka has ever seen adorn Chrollo’s feet and the black material winks at him under shining moonlight.</p>
<p>At the radius of the semi-circle of his sofa, Chrollo is presenting himself to Hisoka, with his hair down, and fur jacket buttoned up, ‘<em>So that’s what it looks like closed,</em>’ Hisoka thinks to himself, still confused as to how this night is going to play out. But he’s eager and he’s excited.</p>
<p>When Chrollo sees Hisoka’s heavy gaze roam back up to meet his own eyes, he speaks, “You did well on the mission, Hisoka.”</p>
<p>Hisoka hums, because he remembers, he has the scar to prove it, “Thank you, Danchou.”</p>
<p>“Chrollo,” The leader corrects softly, his voice dipping down an octave, “When it’s just you and me, I want you to use my name.” </p>
<p>Hisoka smiles, “I can do that, <em>Chrollo.</em>”</p>
<p>Chrollo feels his smile widen a bit. He loves the sound of his own name on Hisoka’s lips. He doesn’t know where Hisoka is from, but his accent makes every word he says drawl out in a way that makes Chrollo’s spine tingle. He wonders if the man knows other languages. </p>
<p>“That’s better.”</p>
<p>Hisoka’s eyebrow raises in question, “So, not that I mind the random rendezvous, but why did you call me here?” Usually, their game is to either see each other at Troupe meetings or have Hisoka find Chrollo’s next hiding place, if he can. This is the first time Chrollo’s ever<em>invited </em>him. </p>
<p>Hisoka sees the grey of Chrollo’s eyes light up at the question, and he unconsciously digs his nails into the cushion of the tufted backrest. </p>
<p>“You took a bullet for me today. It’s no question that I value loyalty,” Chrollo says as he starts to undo the buttons of his jacket. His eyes never leave Hisoka’s.</p>
<p>Underneath, Chrollo wears a strapless black leather corset that stops right at his bellybutton, accentuating the swell of his pectorals and highlighting the deep dip of his collarbones. Black lacy panties hug the curve of his hips and decorate the top of his thighs nicely. Black garters dig into the meat of his thighs as they hold up lacy mesh thigh-highs. When Hisoka lingers here, he notices gold accents on the garters, and a charm pendant on each thigh, one teardrop, and one star. </p>
<p>Hisoka’s jaw drops, ‘<em>I’m going to die.</em>’</p>
<p>“I want to give you a gift.”</p>
<p>Chrollo finally takes off the jacket, and Hisoka lets out a full-on <em>groan. </em></p>
<p>There’s so much skin, and even though Hisoka has seen Chrollo <em>naked</em>, this image is ten times more devastating. The room is dim, but Hisoka can still see the stark contrast of Chrollo’s fair skin against the black leather. His body is toned and strong, meaty thighs bulging beautifully against the garters and all Hisoka wants to do is sink his teeth into them. </p>
<p>Chrollo turns around and Hisoka is floored. The black lace curves around each cheek of Chrollo’s plump ass, and Hisoka wants to rip the underwear off with his teeth and bury his face between the cheeks.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he breathes.</p>
<p>He’s so transfixed that he doesn’t even notice that when Chrollo bends down -<em> ‘I am going to die, </em><strong><em>happily’  </em></strong>- towards a coffee table on the side of the couch, he has picked up a remote and pressed a button.</p>
<p>Music starts playing and the beat and bass feel like he’s in some sort of strip club. </p>
<p>Chrollo starts to swing his hips back and forth to the rhythm and his arms raise up, one hand caressing down the arm of the other and, <em>now,</em> Hisoka understands what’s going on. Chrollo is putting on a show.</p>
<p>And then Chrollo turns around, opens his mouth, and starts <em>singing</em>, and Hisoka’s heart gets stuck in his throat. </p>
<p>Chrollo is putting on an authentic, <em>custom-made </em>show <em>for Hisoka.  </em></p>
<p>And he’s having fun doing it. Hisoka can tell, there’s mirth in Chrollo’s eyes, pleasure in his smile. He knows he has Hisoka’s undivided attention, he knows how good he looks, and he is <em>reveling </em>in the feeling of this moment. </p>
<p>
  <em> ‘No escaping when I start, once I'm in I own your heart. There's no way you'll ring the alarm….So hold on until it's over.’  </em>
</p>
<p>Hisoka feels like he’s under a spell. His mouth never closes, and his eyes never leave the movement of Chrollo’s body. He’s never seen Chrollo in such a light, he’s never known the man to be so graceful, elegant, sexy,<em> raunchy</em>. Chrollo uses the strength of his legs with every dip, curves his back beautifully for every arch, his arms are a literal extension for every movement he makes, down to the graceful flare of his fingertips. His movements are sharp at times, smooth in others. Every swing, dip, and twist has the purpose of accentuating different parts of his body, showcasing both the outfit and Chrollo’s physique. </p>
<p>
  <em>'It's alright, you'll be fine, baby, I'm in control. Take the pain, take the pleasure, I'm the master of both. Close your eyes, not your mind, let me into your soul. I'm a work ya 'til you're totally blown.’  </em>
</p>
<p>When Chrollo slinks towards him, Hisoka feels his body move naturally forward. Both feet plant themselves on the ground, and he folds his hands to rest his elbows on his knees. </p>
<p>Chrollo slowly moves into Hisoka’s lap. Hisoka makes space for him but he knows not to touch. He wouldn’t dare disrupt this thoughtful performance Chrollo has clearly worked so hard for. However, Chrollo’s hands are everywhere, sliding up his chest, gripping his hair, cupping his jaw to slip the tip of his thumb in Hisoka’s mouth. </p>
<p>Chrollo rolls his body into Hisoka’s, grinding down onto his lap, and Hisoka barely resists the urge to grab onto his thighs. Chrollo sings the lyrics into the hollow of Hisoka’s throat, making sure his lips purposely skim the skin with every word until the end of the second verse. </p>
<p>Suddenly, Chrollo pushes off quickly as he scream-sings the beginning note to the chorus, and Hisoka is transfixed by the shape of his lips, framing the melody so, so prettily.</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet. You thought an angel swept you off your feet. Well, I'm about to turn up the heat. I'm here for your entertainment.’  </em>
</p>
<p>He drops down to the ground, his knees hitting the ground and sliding across the floor in a repetitive in-and-out motion as his legs spread obscenely, almost as if he’s fucking the floor. He belts out a high note, the raspiness of his voice giving Hisoka literal goosebumps. <em>'Do you like what you see?’ </em>He sings, looking Hisoka dead in the eyes as he brings a hand down to caress his body from chest to groin, cupping his hands over the bulge of his panties. With the same hand, he grips the meat of his own inner thigh and bares his neck to belt out another high note.</p>
<p>Chrollo stands up on his knees and points straight at Hisoka,<em> ‘Let me entertain ya 'till you scream.’  </em></p>
<p>Hisoka is breathless, he literally does not think he’s taken a breath in the past two minutes. </p>
<p>Chrollo uses the hand pointing at Hisoka to flip forwards and lands perfectly on his needle-thin stilettos. He’s singing the last chorus, and he’s putting his all into it. He walks back to where Hisoka sits, and lifts his leg to plant a heeled-foot onto Hisoka’s shoulder and pushes him further into the couch. The heat of Chrollo’s mesh-covered leg so close to Hisoka’s face is making his mouth water, the pinprick pain of his thin heel burrowing into his new scar intensifying the feeling ten times over. Chrollo slides his heel and Hisoka feels the pressure move away from his shoulder and further down, down, down, until the heel is pushed against Hisoka’s crotch. </p>
<p>Chrollo pushes down, ‘<em>It’s about to get rough for you,’ </em>and Hisoka can’t help the whine that leaves his lips, and Chrollo fucking beams through his next note.<em> 'Bet you thought that I was nice and sweet,’ </em>His foot leaves Hisoka as he turns around and bends at the waist, keeping his legs completely straight as his hands smooth slowly down them, and Hisoka can see his face peek through the window of his thighs. The position blesses Hisoka with the sight of Chrollo’s ass, literally in his face, and Hisoka almost leans in for a taste until he feels strong hands run firmly up his shins and grip his knees before Chrollo <em>pushes himself up </em>into a handstand, ‘<em>Thought an angel swept you off your feet,’ </em>and Hisoka feels like Chrollo’s paying homage to Hisoka’s own signature circus moves. </p>
<p>This display of sheer strength makes his blood roar. </p>
<p>Chrollo twists his body and uses his arms to push off Hisoka’s knees, flying up and twisting around so that he lands perfectly sound onto Hisoka’s lap again, facing the magician. He pushes himself into Hisoka’s space, takes his face into both hands, and delivers the last line in a dirty, filthy whisper, “I’m here for your entertainment.”</p>
<p>The music fades, and Hisoka is left trapped between Chrollo’s legs, puffs of hot air caressing his neck, and the rise and fall of Chrollo’s chest against his own.</p>
<p>Finally, <em>fucking finally</em>, Hisoka raises his hands to do the one thing he’s wanted to do ever since seeing Chrollo tonight - <em>touch.  </em></p>
<p>His hands grip the undersides of Chrollo’s thighs, one sliding up Chrollo’s side, across his back, and gripping the opposite side of his waist so that Hisoka cages Chrollo in an embrace. When he squeezes both hands, Chrollo finally pulls back and gives him a blinding smile. </p>
<p>Hisoka doesn’t know what to say, so he settles with a, “Aren’t you quite a talented man?” </p>
<p>Chrollo smooths one hand over Hisoka’s chest, keeping the other to cup his jaw, “Jack of all trades,” he breathes, nuzzling his nose against Hisoka’s so that their lips brush with every word they speak to each other. </p>
<p>“Hm,” Hisoka smiles, his perfect white teeth peeking behind his lips and his eyelids heavy, “Beautiful voice.”</p>
<p>Chrollo’s thighs squeeze Hisoka’s hips at the praise, and he wastes no time crashing his lips onto Hisoka’s.</p>
<p>It ends up being a <em>very </em>fun night. Hisoka is completely <em>fucked.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p><em> “I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic, and I know when I go, all my particles disband and disperse, and I'll be back in the pulse. And I know none of this'll matter in the long run, but I know a sound is still a sound around no-one. And while I'm in this body, I want somebody to want, and I want what I want, and I want you... to love me.” </em>   <a href="#fiona" id="fionaback" name="fionaback"> <sup>[3]</sup> </a></p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes, all they do is kiss.</p>
<p>At first, Chrollo thinks Hisoka is amusing. Then brilliant, then interesting, and then he is no longer looking forward to their fight. He just wants Hisoka to let himself <em>belong</em>; belong to the Troupe, belong to him, be a part of him. </p>
<p>Chrollo has always been a romantic. His heart is cold, but it’s big and yearns to be filled with the warmth of those who pledge their lives to him. Hisoka is vicious and calculating majority of the time, but when it’s just him and Chrollo in the dead of the night sinking into satin sheets, Hisoka is so good for him. He’s soft and open, mischievous in the most unexpected of moments, and obedient in those that Chrollo needs him to be. He’s absolutely, undeniably, irrevocably perfect for Chrollo. </p>
<p>Chrollo’s also developed a bit of a complex about Hisoka’s - <em>‘very pretty </em>’ - hands. </p>
<p>Chrollo thinks they’re magnificent, Hisoka’s hands. Lithe, slender things that delicately slope to the point of manicured talons. They dance and seduce, elegantly boneless to the naked eye, yet contain such raw <em>strength. </em>Hisoka holds so much power and control in those exquisite hands of his - it shows in his light teases, his rough handling, the way he holds his precious playing cards by his two fingers. Chrollo loves the feeling of Hisoka’s hands on <em>him, </em>specifically. He loves the weight of those fingers on his tongue, the feeling of biting into the strong bone of his knuckles, the drag of his sharp nails across his bottom lip whenever Hisoka slowly pulls them out. He loves when those hands hold his throat, literally holds Chrollo’s life in those beautiful hands. He loves when Hisoka’s thumbs slowly, <em>slowly,</em> caress the tops of Chrollo’s cheekbones, because that’s when Chrollo knows Hisoka is <em>really </em>paying attention. Hisoka uses his hands to map Chrollo’s body to memory, he pushes into every dip of Chrollo’s flesh, latches onto the plump parts of Chrollo, and take and take and <em>take, </em>and Chrollo is always willing to give more. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrollo is fighting the heavy droop of his eyelids when Hisoka asks him something, his slender middle finger gently tracing the cross on his forehead over and over again, as it has been for the past half hour.</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“Why did you get this tattoo?” Hisoka asks again, not stopping his ministrations. </p>
<p>Chrollo’s eyes widen, and he looks up from where his head lays on meaty thighs to look at Hisoka's face, “Why are you interested?” He is not defensive, Chrollo is always happy to answer the questions that are asked of him, but this is the first time Hisoka has asked him something<em> personal.  </em></p>
<p>“Am I not allowed to be curious about what type of leader I follow?”</p>
<p>At that, Chrollo lets out a short laugh, “My tattoo has nothing to do with my leadership abilities.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Hisoka hums, “But I still want to know.”</p>
<p>“It’s a long story,” Chrollo warns.</p>
<p>Hisoka smiles down at him, replacing his middle finger with his thumb to thread the rest of his fingers through inky black hair, the palm of his hand wide and warm at the crown of Chrollo’s head, “I like stories.”</p>
<p>And so Chrollo tells him a story. </p>
<p>
  <em> [ In a land far, far away…  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lived a boy who deserved better.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Chrollo was housed by filth of the foulest kind; a father, with a mind of the sickest type. He knew nothing of a mother, only that his father’s eyes would go into a crazed haze whenever Chrollo had tried to ask him about her. A child, stuck with a monster, in a village of drunks, addicts, and depravity.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> When Chrollo turned 11, he was found walking the littered street, covered in blood. The official report of his father’s death stated, ‘Accidental Death’ as if it were possible for an accident to result in someone’s throat slit so deeply to the bone.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> They sent Chrollo to an orphanage in a colonized area just outside Meteor City, where Chrollo would spend the next 4 years of his life in a different sort of hell. The nuns were horrible. Their ice blue eyes held nothing and their righteous hearts were charred to blackened coal.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Chrollo and the other boys were punished for every move they made.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Punished for speaking their native language, for doing chores wrong, for incorrectly phrasing a Psalm.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> When Chrollo is 13, he makes his first-ever friend. Chrollo is taking out the trash behind the building when he sees the black alley cat. The poor thing is missing his left hind leg, limping sadly towards the bin for scraps of food. Chrollo feels for it, and just when he’s about to walk towards the cat, another boy comes running in behind it. Chrollo has seen this boy in his classes before, but they’ve never spoken to each other. The boy’s steps slowed to a stop as he picks up the cat and cradles it, his fingers scratching at black and pink ears. It’s only a moment before he looks up and sees Chrollo.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Oh, uh… Hi,” The boy greets, awkwardly.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Hello,” Chrollo greets back, “Is that your cat?” He asks because pets are not allowed at the nunnery and he wants to know how this boy gets away with that rule.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Oh, no, she’s a stray! I… I come out and play with her, sometimes, and, and I feed her, too! Please don’t tell the Nuns.”  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Chrollo would never.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He tosses the trash bag into the bin and closes the lid, “I won’t. Have you named her?”  </em>
</p>
<p><em> The boy laughs and walks closer to Chrollo, “It feels wrong to name her. </em> <em>She’s not mine, you know? She’s her own girl!” The boy’s smile is so bright, despite being in this horrid place, and Chrollo feels warm. No one has ever smiled at him like that. “Do you want to feed her?” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Chrollo does, and he says so.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Every evening after that, the two boys slip out behind the nunnery to play and feed the black alley cat. They become fast friends.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Two months later, the Nuns find out and kill the stray.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The boys get the lashings of their life and are left alone to mourn together. It is the first time Chrollo has had someone to cry with.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> When Chrollo is 15, he starts to wonder what it’d be like to hold his friend’s hand and kiss his cheek. He doesn’t even get the chance.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The Nuns are always watching.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Chrollo is the first to find his friend’s body, hanging crude and lifeless from the tree outside his window. He screams, so loud that his vocal cords vibrate in pain and horse his voice. He catches the eye of the head Nun as she stops in front of his door to watch, and sees the corner of her lip turn into the devil’s mirth. He screams and screams and screams. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> On what would have been his friend’s 16th birthday, he brings the wrath of God down upon the nuns and burns an upside-down cross on every single one of their foreheads.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Before he runs, he sets the whole place to fire. ]  </em>
</p>
<p>“Saint Peter’s cross symbolizes humility,” Chrollo ends solemnly. He’s not looking at particularly anything, completely focused on the memories of his past, “I actually came to like the messages of religion. It’s a shame that even those who label themselves as the most devout distort those messages for their own depravity.” </p>
<p>Chrollo talks through the whole night, practically giving Hisoka his life story. Hisoka doesn’t know if he deserves to know this information, given the magician wants to kill him in battle. </p>
<p>Nonetheless, Hisoka listens to the anger that vibrates Chrollo’s throat when he speaks of his father, the grief in Chrollo’s wavering voice every time he mentions the boy in the nunnery, the mirth of Chrollo’s smile when he recounts the first meeting of Feitan, of finding Machi. </p>
<p>Hisoka listens and he never, ever, stops the caress of his fingers, not for one second.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrollo has been itching to see Hisoka’s bare face again. </p>
<p>He thought that when Hisoka had decided to forgo his makeup at Machi’s birthday party, the magician would be more inclined to show his face when they were<em> alone,</em> at least<em>. </em>But Chrollo was very, very wrong. In fact, Hisoka seems to be more insistent than ever when it comes to keeping his facepaint <em>on</em>. </p>
<p>Chrollo remembers the last time Hisoka had come to him, about a month ago. The magician came through the window of Chrollo’s hotel room,<em> on the 37th floor</em>. </p>
<p>‘<em>God, that bungee gum is amazing.’  </em></p>
<p>Chrollo laughed because he really thought he did a good job hiding this time, in the far South-Eastern city, where the weather is humid and heavy with industrial pollution. </p>
<p>Hisoka wasted no time, pulling Chrollo from the couch, leaving his papers to scatter from his lap across the floor. When there was nothing but sweat between their bodies, Chrollo tried to take off Hisoka’s makeup with his hands and mouth. Hisoka laughs, a beautiful thing of tilting his chin to the ceiling, exposing the long line of his neck and sharp cut of his jaw. Chrollo’s mind goes blank for a moment at the sight, and Hisoka uses that moment to distract Chrollo with a sloppy kiss, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. </p>
<p>Hisoka pulls back to let out a groan, “<em>God</em>, you’re making a mess outta me, Chrollo.”</p>
<p>Chrollo feels a shift in their bodies, feels Hisoka pull out of him, and suddenly Chrollo’s on his hands and knees, facing the headboard. Hisoka smoothly pushes back in, and Chrollo sighs, stretching his back and lowering to his elbows. </p>
<p>That night, Hisoka had fucked him so good he’d forgotten his original agenda. </p>
<p>This night, however, Chrollo does not want to forget. </p>
<p>They’re laying down on opposite ends of the bed, Hisoka stretched out across the foot and Chrollo reclined at the headboard. Hisoka is reading a mystery novel that Chrollo had expressed liking in the past, the book laying flat on the bed as the magician uses his elbow to lean over the pages. Hisoka is invested, but Chrollo hasn’t even gotten past the first few pages of his own book. He contemplates waiting until Hisoka is done, but he has a feeling Hisoka <em>also knows </em>that Chrollo hasn’t been reading for the past half hour. </p>
<p>Chrollo decides to go for it, and asks, “Did you like the circus?”</p>
<p>Hisoka looks up from the book he’s currently reading, and gives the man a calculated smirk, “Obviously,” his elegant hand waves across his painted face. Amber eyes have tightened in suspicion, but Chrollo thinks that paranoia is useless, Chrollo intends no harm.</p>
<p>So, he persists. </p>
<p>“It is a part of you. But did you like it?” </p>
<p>Hisoka closes his book, and eyes Chrollo for a moment, “... sometimes. What’s not to like about the circus?” His white lips are still tilted in a smirk, but it’s the kind of smirk that makes Chrollo feel cold, like he’s pushing dangerous and uncharted territory. </p>
<p>He decides to give one more gentle push, before he drops the subject completely, “If I ask you about your time at the circus, would you want to tell me?” </p>
<p>Chrollo’s putting the ball in Hisoka’s court. Hisoka knows he has a choice, Chrollo will accept anything the man decides to give him. </p>
<p>Chrollo doesn’t miss the way - for a <em>split </em>second - Hisoka’s body freezes, and then quickly relaxes as if Chrollo didn’t poke at something sensitive. </p>
<p>“Maybe. Depends on what you wanna know.” </p>
<p>Chrollo shrugs, “Anything. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever you’re comfortable with.”</p>
<p>At that, Hisoka smiles, and the sight tugs at the strings of Chrollo’s heart and stretches them taut.</p>
<p>The magician pulls himself up from the foot of the bed and plops into Chrollo’s lap, pretty hands cradling the back of Chrollo’s neck gently, fingers playing with the ends of Chrollo’s slicked strands.</p>
<p>“Such a respectful, young man,” The man in his lap coos. Chrollo rolls his eyes and playfully slaps Hisoka’s thigh, letting his own laughter escape through closed lips. The tease in Hisoka’s eyes softens to something else. Chrollo spreads his hand across Hisoka’s thigh comfortingly while he watches, and he waits. </p>
<p>Hisoka lets a moment of silence envelope them, till there’s nothing but the sounds of crickets and two men breathing. When he speaks again, his voice is just shy of a murmur, as if he’s telling Chrollo a secret, “I was taken in by the Ringmaster when I was 14. 'Guess he thought my useless ass was talented enough. He gave me new clothes, free food. He taught me about Nen.”</p>
<p>Chrollo hums and rubs his thumb back and forth on Hisoka’s thigh, “Were you the only kid who worked there?”</p>
<p>Hisoka nods and stretches his arms to fully wind around Chrollo’s neck. Chrollo observes the magician’s actions and contemplates - he doesn’t think Hisoka has ever been so… ‘<em>Needy? No, that's not the word.’ </em>Chrollo can’t put his finger on it just yet, but there’s a heaviness to Hisoka’s actions as if he <em>needs </em>to be closer to Chrollo, closer to touch, to hold, to be… protected. </p>
<p>‘<em>He’s vulnerable,’  </em>Chrollo realizes, feeling like an idiot. This <em>is </em>a sensitive topic for Hisoka. </p>
<p>Chrollo winds his own arms around Hisoka’s impossibly tiny waist and links his fingers together to rest against the magician’s back. Hisoka melts, and though he’s looking Chrollo in the eyes, his golden orbs are glazed over with memories. </p>
<p>“I was the youngest, but I made my first friend there. She was a few years older. She was… incredibly kind, bleeding heart, and everything - very motherly, in a sense. Taught me all about aesthetics and showbiz.” </p>
<p>There’s a small smile on Hisoka’s lips, but it’s one of grief, and Chrollo’s heart breaks, because he knows that pain, knows it too well, but there’s nothing Chrollo can do to stop Hisoka from feeling it. </p>
<p>“How did she pass?” There’s no use beating around the bush, and Chrollo doesn’t want to make Hisoka <em>say it, </em>because it’s an awful thing, to utter stolen death into the world. </p>
<p>Hisoka leans up until his chin rests on the top of Chrollo’s head and his arms tighten around Chrollo’s neck, Hisoka’s adam’s apple flirting with the slope of Chrollo's nose. Chrollo follows suit; tightens his arms, presses their chests together, and nuzzles against the magician’s throat, trying to communicate, <em>‘I’m here, release your burdens onto me, show me your strength, speak your truth, trust me, trust me, trust me, please.’  </em></p>
<p>“The Ringmaster killed her for senseless fetish.”</p>
<p>Silence. </p>
<p>Chrollo hurts for Hisoka, tightens his arms at the man’s hollow tone. The very man who gave his magician a place to belong - that very same man destroyed the woman who made that place home. </p>
<p>Hisoka can feel the empathy Chrollo wants to give him, and he cups the back of Chrollo’s head in return, “He was the first person I ever killed.”</p>
<p>The sentence is cold, but Hisoka is not. He is warm, and his voice is <em>thick</em>, so thick that when he finishes, Chrollo can feel him swallow by the movement of his throat against his cheek. </p>
<p>Chrollo continues to rub his hands across Hisoka’s back and gives Hisoka all the time he needs. He knows Hisoka is hiding his face right now, and Chrollo understands. He understands now that Hisoka’s makeup, much like his own tattooed-cross, is his way of honoring the first person to burrow their way into his beaten-down heart. Hisoka’s makeup is his honor, symbolism of his initiation into this shitty world they live in, a token to respect the death of his loved one - it’s so much more than<em> paint</em>. </p>
<p>Chrollo doesn’t know how long they sit like that, he doesn’t track the time, he just sits there and coexists with the man he believes to be his equal. </p>
<p>When Chrollo feels those pointed nails scratch across his scalp and mess up his slicked style, he lets out a smile and Hisoka feels it against his throat, “Danchou, you truly need to figure out a new hairstyle. You’ll go bald at this rate, using so much product. So stiff.”</p>
<p>Chrollo snorts - ‘<em>Like he’s one to talk!’ </em> - and offers, “I won’t put gel in my hair if you don’t in yours.”</p>
<p>Hisoka pulls back, a blinding smile stretched across his face and fire in those gold, gold eyes. </p>
<p>“Deal,” He says, moving off Chrollo’s lap and pulling them both into the shower. </p>
<p>In the amber light of the bathroom, Chrollo discovers Hisoka has <em>freckles</em>, splattered across his cheeks and nose like personal constellations, and Chrollo’s heart swells. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just tell me his favorite color.” </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Machi, c’mon, help me out a little.” </p>
<p>Machi sighs, “Gifts are personal, they’re supposed to be like… like, an inside joke, okay? Some token of a moment. I can’t tell you what to get. If your gift doesn’t mean anything, then don’t bother.” </p>
<p>God, Hisoka doesn’t understand why this has to be so hard. <em>Why </em>does this Troupe insist on celebrating holidays of <em>every </em>religion? For the past 3 years, Hisoka has been able to get away from participating in these things, but he has been spending considerably <em>more </em>time around this group of bandits lately, which resulted in them bullying him into spending this particular occasion with them. Hisoka is barely familiar with what this holiday is, the only information he was given was when Shalnark shoved a hat full of colorful paper at him and said,<em>“Pick one out. You’re the secret St. Nick for the person whose name is on your sticky note. Don’t tell them.”  </em></p>
<p>Hisoka has never given anyone a gift in his life. If someone wants something from him, they usually just <em>tell </em>him. </p>
<p>“Fine,” The smile on his face tightens, “Sentimental cunt,” he mumbles under his breath. </p>
<p>A hot sting of pain strikes his neck, “Sentimental what?” Machi taunts.</p>
<p>Hisoka observes the way the thread of her needle glints across her fingertips. </p>
<p>“Into pain play, Machi? Didn’t realize you were so kinky,” he taunts because he can. </p>
<p>As expected, Machi’s deadpanned expression gives nothing. Instead, she retracts her needle and leaves Hisoka back to square one. </p>
<p>Later that night, Hisoka lies next to Chrollo and stares up at the ceiling, thinking about what the sleeping man would want as a gift. ‘<em>Something useful,’  </em>Hisoka thinks. Chrollo is a thief, he could get any treasure he desired at practically the snap of his fingers. </p>
<p>The rustling of sheets distracts him from his thoughts as a warm leg slides across his hip to tangle between his own. Chrollo wraps his body to the contours of Hisoka, throwing his arm across the magician’s chest and nuzzling his shoulder. </p>
<p><em>'Chrollo does this a lot,'</em> Hisoka realizes. </p>
<p>The man is always cold when he sleeps, clinging to the closest source of heat he can find subconsciously. Hisoka’s never been much of a…<em> cuddler</em>, but the man fits into him like a puzzle, so he really can’t complain. Hisoka even takes it one step further, by gently sliding his arm under Chrollo’s heavy, sleeping head to provide more cushion. </p>
<p>With that thought, Hisoka decides what to gift Chrollo. </p>
<p>“Are these pajamas? They’re very soft,” Chrollo’s mindlessly running a hand through the fluffy fleece of the sleeping pants, a curious eyebrow lifted at Hisoka. </p>
<p>Hisoka smiles proudly, “Yes, they’re extra warm. I noticed you get cold in the nights, you practically become a koala. Now, you can be warm like one.”</p>
<p>Chrollo’s eyes widen before something else settles across his face and makes his smile soft, “Thank you.”</p>
<p>That night, Chrollo wears the warm sleeping pants, but they do nothing to stop his clinging. Hisoka begins to understand that Chrollo's cuddling isn’t born out of being cold. </p>
<p>The thought makes Hisoka unbelievably -<em> uncomfortably </em>- satisfied. </p>
<p>Oh, God. He’s too close. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Uvogin dies. Chrollo is captured. Hisoka is revealed to be a traitor. </p>
<p>Betrayal pierces through Chrollo, like savage stabs to the stomach with a butterfly knife. </p>
<p>He wants to<em> cry.  </em></p>
<p><em> ‘Control yourself,’ </em> he tells himself, over and over and over again. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I can’t fight,” Chrollo shrugs with his signature perfectly practiced smile, “He took away my Nen.” </p>
<p>He leaves, without looking back, picks up the broken pieces of his heart, and wonders what the <em>hell </em>he’s supposed to do now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p><em> “I am a vampire, I don't want to hurt you, I can't make my own blood, I can't make my own blood. I am a monster hanging from the ceiling, I don't want to hurt you, I can't make my own blood. And the thunder rings, ‘Go away. Go away.’ And the choir sings, ‘Go away. Go away.’" </em> <a href="#spoon" id="spoonback" name="spoonback"> <sup>[4]</sup> </a></p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been 5 months. </p>
<p>5 months without his Troupe, without knowledge of how Pakunoda is handling isolation, without Shalnarks laughter, without Machi’s wit, Feitan’s mischief, Phinks’s humor, Nobunaga’s sword games, Shizuku’s whimsicality. </p>
<p>Chrollo does some reflecting.</p>
<p>‘<em>Hisoka is a traitor.’  </em></p>
<p>
  <em>'Didn’t I know this on some level, at some point?’  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>'Why, why, why does it hurt so badly?’  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>'Did I lose my mind along the way?’  </em>
</p>
<p>Hisoka not only betrayed him, soiling the trust Chrollo had thought they had between them, but his actions had ultimately led to the death of Uvogin. </p>
<p><em> ‘Uvo,’  </em>Chrollo despairs, <em>‘Forgive me, forgive me, Uvogin, please, God, I’m so sorry.’  </em></p>
<p>He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t feel allowed to, it’s not his <em>right</em>, to mourn the man he killed.</p>
<p>After repeatedly going through the past 3 years over and over again in his head, Chrollo couldn’t believe he had made himself - <em>his Troupe  </em>- so fucking vulnerable. </p>
<p>Machi had even warned him about Hisoka, multiple times.</p>
<p>Chrollo admits to himself that he should have listened. <em>God, </em>he should have listened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>*</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrollo is drowning out his pathetic sorrows in the mouth of a stranger who is probably 15 years older than him. One minute, they’re making out, and the next, Chrollo is met with the familiar feeling of wet and hot blood spurting across his neck and chest. </p>
<p>He pulls back and sees an ace of hearts buried in the neck of his suitor. The body drops. </p>
<p>Twenty feet away stands Hisoka. Chrollo’s mouth twists downward.</p>
<p>“Go away,” He sneers, turning to walk away.</p>
<p>Lightning fast, Hisoka’s large hand grabs his arm, “Touchy,” He <em>taunts</em>. </p>
<p>
  <em> ‘How can he act so casual, after everything he’s done to me?’ </em>
</p>
<p>Chrollo violently shakes off the hand, “No, fuck you!” Chrollo turns back to the clown, no Nen to protect him, and strikes Hisoka’s face with the back of his hand, “How could you!”</p>
<p>(Hisoka definitely could have blocked that, if he wanted.)</p>
<p>Hisoka’s eyes are downcast, the paint on his cheek smeared from the force of Chrollo’s rings, “Don’t mistake your flowery feelings for mine.” </p>
<p>And that really hits Chrollo. For Hisoka to say it so bluntly, <em>just like that, </em>as if everything they’ve gone through together for the past 3 years has been absolutely <em>meaningless.  </em></p>
<p>“How <em>could you </em>do this, to me?”</p>
<p>At the hard and desperate tone of Chrollo’s voice, Hisoka’s head snaps back up to look at the man with a steel glare, “You’ve known my goal since day one. What did you expect?” </p>
<p>Chrollo huffs an ugly laugh, “Yeah, what did I… expect.”</p>
<p>And, well, what did Chrollo think? That just because he was vulnerable with Hisoka, Hisoka would, what, care about him? Love him back? See Chrollo from the inside out, guts and all, and discover something to build a home in? What ever gave Chrollo the idea that he could mean<em> anything </em>to Hisoka? Chrollo was foolish. The fact that Chrollo loves means nothing. Hisoka is unchained, a lone wolf, a man who lives solely for himself. A man with only dark desires to satisfy his cold, black, <em>shitty</em>, shitty fucking heart</p>
<p>At the way Chrollo’s voice trembles, Hisoka knows the man is drained. He knows what Chrollo looks like just before he’s about to cry, “Just go away, Hisoka. I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t want to see you.”</p>
<p>Hisoka places both hands on Chrollo’s shoulders, softly, and the flinch Chrollo gives in response makes Hisoka ashamed of himself. He turns him around to face the horizon, to give Chrollo the sight of a beautifully setting sun, “Okay.”</p>
<p>Chrollo lets out a shuddering breath, and Hisoka immediately knows what’s going on. He <em>knows </em>Chrollo, spent hundreds of thousands of hours with him these past 3 years. He knows him so, <em>so</em>, well. </p>
<p>“There was nothing you could have done, Chrollo. Uvogin made his own decision, and he would be extremely upset to know you’ve been taking responsibility for his death. It’s practically insulting.”</p>
<p>“Don’t speak of him.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>There’s no more talking, after that. </p>
<p>As Chrollo finally mourns Uvogin’s death properly, Hisoka holds him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>*</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Chrollo gets his Nen back, courtesy of Hisoka, the two decide to give themselves two months to prepare before their official match.</p>
<p>During those two months, Chrollo visits Hisoka a total of 5 times. </p>
<p>The first night, Chrollo creeps into Hisoka’s apartment, he ties him up, takes off his makeup, and roughly fucks the man until they’re both breathless and sore.</p>
<p>And Hisoka lets him, not only because it’s<em> so fucking good, </em>but because it’s what Chrollo <em>needs </em>from him. </p>
<p>When Chrollo rolls off Hisoka and unties him from the headboard, he collapses on the bed and stares at the ceiling, “Why, Hisoka?” </p>
<p>Hisoka knows what he’s asking. </p>
<p>And surprisingly, he tells Chrollo the truth. </p>
<p>“I promised someone that I’d be the king of the world. I made a vow, to myself, to be stronger. I…” Hisoka pauses, trying to gather his thoughts, “You, this-<em> this arrangement </em>between us… made things complicated. Started blurring those promises - fucked them up.”</p>
<p>Chrollo… understands. The need to be true to yourself, to honor your own vows. </p>
<p>He still hurts, though. All the time. Pakunoda and Uvogin are dead, and there’s nothing that can bring them back. </p>
<p>Chrollo’s head rolls to look at Hisoka, and even now, after everything the man has done to him, Chrollo cannot stop his heart from swelling at the sight of star-splattered cheeks and golden irises. <em>God, </em>Hisoka really has ruined him, hasn’t he?</p>
<p>“Y’know,” Chrollo whispers, the sound feeling precious and held in the space between their laid heads, “I’ve realized how much I’ve told you of my own life, but… I don’t think I know much about yours.” </p>
<p>Chrollo, despite the betrayal and hurt and anger, wonders who the other person Hisoka made that promise to. </p>
<p>Hisoka snorts, but it’s soft and fond, “It’s not my fault you’re terrible with personal secrets.”</p>
<p>Chrollo rolls his eyes, “I’m an open book,” He lifts an arm to lazily point at Hisoka, “You’re the one with secrets.” </p>
<p>“It’s my brand. After all, a magician— “</p>
<p>“ —never reveals his secrets,” Chrollo sighs, not even bothering to hide his disappointment.</p>
<p>However, Hisoka continues, this time with an indulgent smirk, “But I suppose sharing a secret or two with someone who will be dead soon won’t kill me.”</p>
<p>“Ah, well, it would be nice to remember <em>you </em>by things other than your body.” </p>
<p>In those 5 visits, Chrollo finally learns the story of Hisoka Morrow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chrollo has never seen Shalnark so serious.</p>
<p>“You need to win, for us, for <em>Uvogin</em>,” Shalnark’s voice is hard, but his green eyes shine with mourning and <em>vengeance,</em> “I can tell... There’s a part of you that wants to lose.” </p>
<p><em> ‘I know your feelings for him,’  </em>Shalnark means. </p>
<p>“We.. we don’t accept that. You’re our leader, act like it. Take our Nen and beat him.”</p>
<p>Chrollo agrees, because he owes it to his Troupe, owes it to Uvogin, to Pakunoda. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p><em> “Purge it out of me, beat it out of me, pray it out of me, Lord, please, please, please."   </em> <a href="#obsessing" id="obsessingback" name="obsessingback"> <sup>[5]</sup> </a></p>
<p>•🕷•</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Relax, kid, I come in peace,” Chrollo drawled, his hands already up in surrender. </p>
<p>“How dare you come at all,” Kurapika seethed in his defensive stance, chains at the ready.</p>
<p><em> ‘God,' </em>Chrollo thinks, ‘<em>I can’t believe I’m doing this</em>.’ He takes a step towards the blond, plastering on a pleasant smile, “I have an offer.”</p>
<p>A second later, Chrollo is locked up in Kurapika’s Chain Jail.</p>
<p>He feels the pressure of the heavy metal around his whole body, reminding him painfully of the last time he was in this position. ‘<em>Pussy,</em>’ He curses Kurapika in his head. “What, don’t trust me?”</p>
<p>Kurapika scoffs, his scarlet eyes never leaving Chrollo for a moment, “I’m not an idiot. You know that.”</p>
<p><em> ‘Unfortunately, I do,’  </em>The smile on Chrollo’s face fades. He studies Kurapika for a moment, wondering how to start this negotiation. Chrollo is used to hiding the big picture, hiding his true intentions. But will Kurapika really make a deal with him if he’s not transparent? <em>‘No, that righteous idiot will only agree if his heart bleeds for me a little bit. If there’s ever a time to lay it on the line…’ </em></p>
<p>“Last time, you took away my Nen using your Judgement Chain,” Chrollo starts, his tone of voice sincerely serious, “It’s clear you possess the ability to learn different types of Nen. Have you mastered Manipulation?”</p>
<p>Kurapika’s eyebrows furrow, his eyes filtering across Chrollo’s face as he ponders, <em>‘What exactly does he want from me?...’  </em>He asks, “Why?”</p>
<p><em> ‘Well, seems like it’s time to get the point,’  </em>Chrollo tells himself. He lets himself have a few seconds to gather his response, “I want to know if you can alter someone’s memories.” </p>
<p>The chains tighten impossibly, nearly cutting into Chrollo’s clothes and he chokes down a pained grunt. </p>
<p>Kurapika’s eyes are blazing scarlet, and Chrollo realizes he has made a wrong move. Kurapika’s voice is strong with insult, “I am not for hire, especially for you. What the fuck are you playing at here, Chrollo?” </p>
<p>There’s a chain slithering up his neck, and he knows he needs to talk quickly or he will soon end up as dead as his beloved eleventh moon. </p>
<p>“Hisoka is dead,” He states as if it means anything, and <em>God</em>, he really hopes it does. </p>
<p>Kurapika’s mind goes blank for a second. He stills his chains, processing what Chrollo had just said. Kurapika has always known Hisoka to be a vile and power-hungry man, but he honestly would have bet good money on his survival. The man was a cockroach, honestly. Kurapika definitely thought he,<em> himself, </em>would die first. Regardless, he doesn’t see the relevance of Hisoka’s death for Chrollo’s visit. Nonetheless, his curiosity is… frustratingly piqued.</p>
<p>Kurapika lifts his brow, “Go on...”</p>
<p>Chrollo is still standing upright, wrapped up shoulders-to-toe in unbreakable chains. He makes sure to look directly into Kurapika’s eyes as he finally says, “I’d like to make a deal with you. Erase him from my memory, I’ll tell you where the rest of the eyes are.”</p>
<p>These past two months weren't only spent on<em> training</em>. </p>
<p><em> ‘What the hell,’ </em>  Kurapika thinks, his mind working a mile a minute, <em>‘He knows where the eyes are… And all he wants is for me to erase his memory?  Chrollo Lucifer, head of the mighty and dreadful Phantom Troupe, wants <strong>me</strong> to fuck with his mind?’  </em></p>
<p><em> God</em>, Kurapika is so fucking curious. But he doesn’t want to ask. He doesn’t want Chrollo to think he has any interest in this thief’s life at all. But this offer is too good - literally once in a lifetime. By the way Chrollo is speaking, Kurapika comes to understand that this request is extremely important to the Troupe leader. He knows the power Kurapika possesses, knows the absolute hatred he has for this Spider, and yet, he still sought him out, alone. Kurapika considers this request two more times over in his mind before replying, “No. If I am going to do anything at all for you, it’s going to be on my terms. I will only erase your whole memory, along with Hisoka, or nothing at all.” </p>
<p>“Why?” Chrollo will admit, he saw this coming. Maybe not this exact request, but he knew that the Chain User would ask for more. </p>
<p>Kurapika’s scarlet eyes turn sharp, and Chrollo feels it - <em>‘Ah, so this is the rage of an avenger, this is what thieves and murderers fear in leaving a survivor alive.’ </em></p>
<p>“Because this way I get to take everyone away from you without having to kill anyone,” Kurapika says with honesty shining those ruby red eyes so fucking earnestly.</p>
<p><em> ‘You’ll be alone, just like I was,’ </em>  Kurapika thinks with the broken parts of his heart, <em>‘Just like you made me. And I will be the one to deliver.’  </em></p>
<p>A moment passes, and the silence bears down on each man’s shoulders. “... Quite smart,” Chrollo relents. A thought passes his mind, and his mouth is moving before he can stop it, “Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you were born someone else? I think you and I would get along.” </p>
<p>Kurapika lets out a noise of disgust, his mouth sneering up to the side, “Doubt it.” </p>
<p>All Chrollo does is laugh, ‘<em>How could I forget. This is a man who thinks nobleness is born within the soul.’ </em></p>
<p>Kurapika studies him, his face expressionless and revealing absolutely nothing to Chrollo. Chrollo’s skin feels prickly from the weight of Kurapika’s stare, and he is just about to speak up - two seconds away from telling Kurapika to ‘<em>fuck off,’  </em>even though he’s the one asking for help - when Kurapika finally opens his mouth, “If I ask, would you honestly tell me what this is all about? I don’t pretend to know you, but this request is… strange,” <em>‘And apparently worth facing death for?’  </em>Kurapika is still too damn curious for his own good.</p>
<p>“Can we perhaps sit? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my legs.”</p>
<p>A chain cuffs Chrollo in the back of his head. “Fuck!” Chrollo grunts through the grit of his teeth, “God, I thought you were civil.”</p>
<p>Kurapika rolls his eyes. Not a second later, Chrollo feels the chains around him move so that his body is now seated against the wall of Kurapika’s apartment, and the Kurta seats himself on a stool.</p>
<p>Chrollo clears the stickiness from his throat, “I am a weak man. I’ve gone through loss and I created an empire off of it. I came from nowhere and made myself a home-” </p>
<p>“Spare me the melancholy, Chrollo. Get to the point.”</p>
<p>“Shut up for a minute,” Chrollo seethes, “You need to listen.”</p>
<p>Only silence meets Chrollo, giving him an indication to continue. “I don’t need sadness. Before, I used it as a drive and turned it into something God-like. Now, though, the feeling is completely useless to me. I’d rather feel nothing.” </p>
<p>“And what of your Troupe? Last I heard, you were willing to die for them.”</p>
<p>“In a way, I am dying for them, am I not? The Troupe will live on. I’m not cut out for the job anymore.”</p>
<p><em> ‘He’s wrong,’  </em>Kurapika thinks. He remembers the reactions of the Spiders when he captured their leader. They are lost without him, they need him, they love him. Kurapika believes that Chrollo is, in fact, mainly the reason any of them stay. </p>
<p>Chrollo continues, “All my life, people have taken from me,” The foul memories run through his mind,<em> ‘My clothes, my food, my body…’ </em>  He swallows down the bile slithering up his throat, “I created my Troupe so I could - quite frankly - do the same, only ten times grander. Kurapika, this world is disgusting and vile, don’t you know? And only those that take get nothing taken from them,” But Chrollo pauses. Because... He does not have everything he’s ever wanted anymore. In fact, the one thing he wants more than anything is gone forever, and it is completely by his own doing. “I never expected this Troupe to take something from me... but here we are,” He lets out a hollow chuckle. Kurapika knows this man to be cold and calculating, but he has never heard him sound so empty - so completely without drive. Kurapika starts to put the pieces together - he listens, and he thinks understands now. “Hm. I suppose some would call this ‘<em>karma</em>’. But if so, that’s completely fucked.” Chrollo has never sounded so bitter, even to himself. His throat has never felt so swollen, and there wasn’t even a chain to blame it on. </p>
<p>Kurapika sighs, “The world doesn’t owe you a thing. You got here because of your own actions, Chrollo. You killed him. And now you’re… here.”</p>
<p>‘<em>Here</em>,’ begging for an ounce of relief, of mercy. </p>
<p>Kurapika knows that feeling of loss, losing the people you love the most, and the unbearable knowledge that they are never coming back. </p>
<p>Chrollo rolls his eyes, “God, ever the noble one,” He drawls sarcastically, his eyes downcast. But Kurapika is not fooled, Chrollo is suffocating, Kurapika sees it. But that doesn’t stop Chrollo from doing what he does best and putting on his favorite poker face. His eyes clear when they focus back onto Kurapika’s, “Well, I’ve said my piece. This is my offer,” His lips slither into that familiarly cold smile, “Care to make a deal with the devil?” </p>
<p>And Kurapika is left with the weight of his answer as he catches the glint of Chrollo’s canines, moonlit-beam casting down so menacingly through the apartment window, illuminating the bottom half of the Spider’s face, almost as if the moment was planned by the moon herself to give Kurapika a warning. </p>
<p>Still, Kurapika makes the deal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="romanticist" name="romanticist"></a>1. Romanticist by Yves Tumor <a href="#romanticistback">Back</a><br/><a id="femmebot" name="femmebot"></a>2. Femmebot by Charlie XCX <a href="#femmebotback">Back</a><br/><a id="fiona" name="fiona"></a>3. I Want You to Love Me by Fiona Apple <a href="#fionaback">Back</a><br/><a id="spoon" name="spoon"></a>4. Go Away by Rae Spoon <a href="#spoonback">Back</a><br/><a id="obsessing" name="obsessing"></a>5. Obsessing by Kilo Kush <a href="#obsessingback">Back</a><br/>The song Chrollo is singing is called "For Your Entertainment" by Adam Lambert<br/>____</p>
<p>uhh hello. im pleathe, a new writer on here. i've written before, but this is my first piece in a while. i don't usually write slash, but to be honest, i watched hxh during quarantine and read some fics and got ~inspired~ to write some real random shit. also!! the stripping scene is inspired by the fic, "Hisoka's Deal", literally reading that got all this start in my head so thank you to Muffinmadness, your fic spiralled me back into writing. also, please, dont come for me for the shitty sexy context, its my first time with that and i felt sooooo out-of-body writing it (even tho i read so much of it lmao)</p>
<p>so! this fic is ~mostly~ written. these characters are basically like... my own versions (obvi lol as with every other fanfic). there's some heavy editing needed and thus, i'm looking for a beta!! i... have never had one before so i'm not sure how that works, to be honest. if any of you out there are interested, please contact me @ the email i have in my bio! </p>
<p>uhh lastly... this fic is for fun! also, hisoka is not a nasty gross pedo in this world, bc.... im not fucking with that shit, dunno why the writers felt the need to put that predatory shit into a kid/teen anime for.. laughs?? ew. anyways.</p>
<p>i wrote this in a way that hopefully promotes conversation and thinking, especially with the events going on currently in our world. yes, its a story about the villains.. but they not the *real* villains if you catch my drift. </p>
<p>there are a lot of songs that inspire the scenes of this fic so i highly highly recommend checking out those songs (and the artists!) to get a feel for this.</p>
<p>next chapter will be hisokas and machis POV (my literal favorite character in this fic)!</p>
<p>also, i have some linktrees in my bio for some causes! i plan to add more later, but definitely please check them out!</p>
<p>hope yall have a good day :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments &amp; criticism is always appreciated! hate will be ignored, dw i know how to separate :)<br/>please check out my bio for links of causes to get involved!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>